


Art

by ForLoveOfLiberTea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Established Relationship, M/M, Sketches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForLoveOfLiberTea/pseuds/ForLoveOfLiberTea
Summary: He wasn’t the greatest artist, and he knew it, but nevertheless he wasn’t one to ignore any jabs at his art—whether it was intentional or otherwise.





	Art

**Author's Note:**

> [ requested by e-mm-s on tumblr. originally published January 24th, 2018. dialogue prompt: _"I'm pretty sure that's an alien ship."_ ]

He wasn’t the greatest artist, and he knew it, but nevertheless he wasn’t one to ignore any jabs at his art—whether it was intentional or otherwise.

The first one who spoke up had been his boyfriend’s younger brother, a usually hyper kid named Peter.

“…Is that supposed to be an egg?”

He looked up, setting down his pencil as he looked at the kid. Peter rested his chin on his paint-smudged hands, apparently unaware of the streaks left on his freckled skin as he curiously looked over the sketch the American man had been working on.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he settled for reaching up and placing a hand on the kid’s messy blond hair. _“That’s_ what you think it looks like, kiddo?” He laughed it off like he always did, but he couldn’t help but feel the pang of disappointment clutching at his heart.

Alfred had never been that talented in art, but he still hoped that he’d improved, even a little bit. That would’ve been enough.

Caught up in his less-than-bright thoughts as he forced himself to laugh and ruffle the young boy’s hair, the American didn’t notice as another figure walked into the room, setting down a plate of perfect chocolate chip cookies and a jug of milk on the nightstand beside the desk which was in use. A hand rested on the man’s shoulder, before a fleeting kiss was pressed to his cheek.

“I’m pretty sure that’s an alien ship,” Arthur said, languidly allowing his hand to trace a path from the man’s shoulder up towards the nape of his neck. Alfred looked up at him, at those bright green eyes which were focused on the details of his work. He reached out, wrapping an arm around the Briton’s waist as he pulled him close. Arthur let him, and his fingers played with the ends of his blond hair.

Peter didn’t seem satisfied with his brother’s statement, arguing that it didn’t resemble a spaceship, not one bit, while the elder simply raised one of his trademark thick brows in challenge.

“How would _you_ know?” He quipped, “have you even _seen_ one so you can contradict me?”

And all the while Alfred watched the siblings bicker back and forth, both trying to justify their interpretations of his art.

He wasn’t the greatest artist and he knew it—Alfred couldn’t draw his own boyfriend, after all, since he had to content himself with sketching egg-resembling alien ships, and Arthur was the most beautiful work of art there was.

 

**end.**


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